"Are you alright," England asked softly to America as they walked out last of the World Conference.
"What do you mean," America asked and tried to give a soft smile but it only added to the exhaustion of his eyes.
"I know what's been going on lately, Alfred. We all see the news." Arthur tried to catch his eyes when he looked away, but all he could see was Alfred take a soft sigh before turning back to him with his signature Hero Smile and glint in his eye.
"Everything is fine! Don't worry about all that," he waved it off and gave a loud laugh. "I'm a hero, remember? I'm the one that needs to help you!" England angrily grabbed the hero's arm and dragged him through a door to a balcony over the entrance of the building. From there they could see all the countries leaving.
"Nothing is fine anymore, Alfred. Nothing was ever fine. So stop acting like it." Arthur pointed three countries barely able to stand and walk but all the others didn't come within several yards to help. "Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia diseased and no one wants to risk themselves. But you tried and you got close." He then pointed at Ukraine and Russia. Ukraine walked slightly behind and kept her head down while Russia walked plainly without any expression. "They were going to kill each other months ago. And you tried your best to help them. Now they don't talk, but that's the worst of it." He pointed to the Middle Eastern countries walking in a group, arguing loudly. "They are trying to kill each other and you are getting in the middle of it trying to fix it so they can get along like real brothers." Arthur finally pointed at France that walked ahead of everyone. "France is destroying himself. You've seen the reports of how religion is treated there. The effects of our people affect us."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Alfred's face was plain and he bit his lip in thought. He couldn't help widening his eyes slightly when Britain looked up with tears in his eyes.
"I'm telling you to stop being a hero all the bloody time! I see the way you stare at your hands when your people put up theres and how cringe when the verdicts of the cases are given. You're split up again and I know you've been through it but let us help before it gets bad this time." Arthur grabbed America's shirt and looked up with wide green eyes and the first tear streamed down his face. "I've seen so many nations get hurt and you've taken a lot! Even if you're going to still play hero, at least let yourself have a sidekick, you bloody twat!"
America sighed and closed his eyes. Looking off the balcony, all the other countries had left already and the sun was starting to fade over the horizon. He knew England was right.
He still had bullet wounds from the Revolutionary War and War of 1812.
He still had the scars on his wrists from the Civil War and the scars on his back from every rebellion he ever carried.
He had a scar down his chest where Japan's sword struck him on December 7, 1941.
He still had nightmares of the World Wars and heard the screams of the bombs.
He still could see the blood dripping down his hands over the permanent burn wounds on his palms from when he created the Atomic Bomb.
He still cried over the years of hatred towards Reds and Blacks that was useless and pointless.
He trouble looking in South Korea's eyes because he knew he couldn't ever fix what happened with him and his sister and sometimes he'll even punch Russia out of sheer anger for it.
He sends an apology letter every year to Vietnam. It's anonymous but she knows who's sending because he was the only nation to hurt her so badly.
He tries his best to intervene with the Middle East, fearing they'll make the same mistakes as him, thinking if they just listened maybe we'd be better off.
And when the weather is bad, he'll walk with a limp, because he still hasn't fully recovered from September 11th.
He smiled widely and patted Arthur's head before pulling his arm away and walked to stand in the doorway, facing the opposite direction. "Sorry, buddy. I work alone." While the voice was chipper, England could hear the poison he had just stuck into himself. It was only going to get worse. That's how it always was with him. Just another scar. Just another fear. Just another nightmare. Just another unforgivable apology. Arthur knew Alfred had a track record for holding grudges, especially against himself. Arthur wanted to reach out to him but it was too late because right after he spoke Alfred hurried off inside. He didn't want his big brother to see him cry.
AN~
While this isn't the first fanfiction I've written, I thought this would be the best one of those I've written to make my first posted on this site. It's just a short little idea that came to my mind when listening to Christina Perri's "Human." Kind of reflects on all the stuff that happened in 2014. Let's hope for a better year! Thanks for reading!